


After Ten Years

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. "...If in say, ten years, things haven't worked out and we don't like them...meet back here. And we'll try...something."</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Ten Years

**Author's Note:**

> This was for Sunshine Challenge Week 2′s prompt, **Reunited**.
> 
> So this fic is based on a short story I read back in like, back in middle school, and it was entitled “After Twenty Years” by O. Henry. The story was about a promise made between two people to meet up again, after twenty years, no matter their circumstances. Honestly my memories of it are very fuzzy, but that was the premise of it so I took it and ran with it, altering some parts of it to make this my own. The original story was a little darker than this, so be warned if you go and look for it! It’s a fantastic story, though, and you can find it online if you do a quick search for it! This one was a lot happier, as per Sunshine criteria. The title of this is also a play on the story, as you can tell.
> 
> But anyway, I’ve rambled enough. Sorry for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

He wonders if he's waiting for naught.

The rain drips outside, the dreary sidewalk lamps illuminating the dark like a bad picture, caught all at the wrong angle and moment and time. The weather on this side of the world is usually fairer than this—but tonight, it seems the universe wants to be a colossal dick to Jack. 

Sipping from his lukewarm cup of coffee, he shakes his leg beneath the table, rocking the old thing and causing it to creak restlessly against the chipping tile floor. The diner is still in business after all these years, and it's a miracle in its own way—the food has never been that good. There's maybe one or two people here at a time, and so Jack doesn't have much of a clue as to how they actually stay in business.

But that's not what matters. What matters is a promise made in this very establishment ten years ago. 

Ten years ago, Jack and his almost-sweetheart made a promise that, if in ten years, they were still unhappy with their lives, they'd meet each other at this place and come back to one another. In a way, it's a ridiculously stupid promise, because they'd been best friends long before feelings had ever developed, but it had been something Mark had insisted on.

“We're going to different colleges with different plans and extremely different lives ahead of us,” Mark had said, seriously. “I want you in my life, Jack, I do. But I don't think...we're gonna be able to make it work. Not with the way things are right now. If in say, ten years, things haven't worked out and we don't like them...meet back here. And we'll try...something. I don't know. Does that make sense?”

Jack had been so stupidly in love that he'd agreed to such a promise, if only for the sake of his heart and perhaps the hope someday he'd get the one he wanted. 

Mark hadn't been entirely wrong, though. Jack's life became grossly hectic once college started. He had switched his major halfway through, dated a few girls, and some guys, all which ended on good terms but still leaving him with an empty ache in his chest. 

Now, settled into a job he'd always wanted, Jack is somehow still unhappy with this turn of events, and that's why he's sitting in this shitty diner and pretending that Mark actually remembers this dorky promise. 

From what he's seen on FaceBook, Mark's getting on pretty well in life. He's on the cusp of publishing his first book, blissfully surrounded by friends Jack doesn't know the name of, doesn't recognize the faces of. There's no reason for Mark to be unhappy even if he does remember their promise, and no reason for him to waltz back into his life and proclaim feelings Jack has managed to somehow hold onto after all these years.

Drumming his fingers on table, he gulps down the rest of his mediocre coffee and drops a couple of bills on the table, combing his fingers through his green hair. It's about time he get home and get some sleep, or at least finish up his fifth run of _Undertale_ , since sleep is something that tends to evade him these days. 

He begins to stand when the bell above the door rings, and Jack looks up. A broad-shouldered person steps inside, covered by a long raincoat, before they shuck off the hood, closing an umbrella and setting it into the umbrella bin next to the door. 

Jack normally would ignore them after this initial examination when they—it's a man—looks over at him. Their eyes meet for a brief second, and Jack's entire world tilts on its side.

It's not the person he remembers, but God help him, those eyes are definitely Mark Fischbach's.

He doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything. Mark stares back at him, as though surprised to see him there as well, and an uncomfortable few seconds pass between them before Mark walks over, almost in disbelief.

“Jesus Christ,” Mark says, and his voice has deepened significantly since they had last talked. “Jack?”

A select few people know his given, childhood nickname. These days, most people refer to him as Sean—he's since stopped giving out the nickname to people. Old friends like Felix and Marzia and Ken call him Jack—but no one else. 

“Mark Fischbach,” he replies, and a laugh escapes him against his wishes. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

It sounds pretty rude coming out, but from the way the cheap light from the hanging lamps dance in Mark's eyes, he knows he doesn't mean it that way. In fact, he finds it pretty amusing, apparently, because a soft snicker escapes him, as though remembering a fond memory. Perhaps he is.

“I made a promise, didn't I?” Mark says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ten years ago? When we were, what, sixteen?” 

“You were seventeen,” Jack corrects, sliding back into the booth. “I was the dumpy sixteen year old. God, I—I can't believe you remembered.”

“I can't believe _you_ remembered,” Mark counters, taking a seat across from him.

Jack almost can't believe he's really here, alive and well and here on a promise that hadn't even been binding. He wants to pinch himself, just to verify he's not dreaming. But he doesn't. That'd probably be weird. 

“You...remember the rules of the promise though, don't you?” Jack inquires. “I—I kinda thought you were doing pretty well in life. You seemed like you...had everything worked out.”

Mark has the decency to look thoughtful. “I can't say I'm _unhappy_ with my life. But there's...there's been something missing for a while. I dropped out of my engineering program that I had my heart set on since I was like 6, and I took up more writing and literature classes. It's much more freeing and in a couple of weeks, my first book will be out to the public. Just getting the okay from my editor right now.” 

Jack nods. “That's—that's honestly really incredible. Meanwhile there's me, who switched majors halfway through my program, and now I'm working in audio. Bunch of technical mumbo-jumbo, but it's nice, being able to work on something I love.”

“So why are you here?”

He swallows, offering a shrug. “I...I guess I'm like you. Something feels like it's been missing for a while. Guess I wanted to see if...something old could help me find it again.”

The rain outside continues to drizzle, and Jack wonders if maybe his words are too blunt, too straightforward. He's been holding onto this petty crush for ten plus years, consciously or not, and it's probably weird to Mark to realize the kid who liked him then still likes him now.

But Jack isn't blind, and he doesn't think Mark is, either. If Jack had loved Mark when he was an awkward, seventeen year old kid who still hadn't fully grown into himself, he sure as hell loved what he's seeing now. Mark's aged well—his late twenties have treated him well with a toned physique and a softer smile than he remembers. 

Jack's torn between laughing and crying, honestly, because maybe it would've been better if Mark hadn't shown up at all.

“You know,” Mark says slowly, as if bringing him back to reality. “When we were kids, I...I always sort of liked you. But I was pretty scared of that.”

He looks up, and Mark's expression has gone a little anxious. “So I shoved it down and pretended it didn't exist. I wasn't comfortable with myself at all, certainly not with my feelings. But the last ten years has changed that. I've gotten a lot more sure in my own skin. Dated a lot of girls. Dated some guys, too.”

The last phrase is a bombshell, practically. Jack regards him skeptically. “And...?”

“And,” Mark mumbles, and his voice is gorgeous against the patter of the rain. “I've always wanted to ask you out on a date. If, you know, you want to.”

There isn't a lot of words that can describe how he's feeling, and it takes all of his energy to not gawk at him. Jack tries to keep the expression of cool calculation, but his insides are practically melting. His tiny, child's heart is screaming in elated happiness, the small teen part of him that still exists pumping his fists. 

“I understand if you don't want to,” Mark babbles, and suddenly he's so nervous, and it's kind of adorable. “I mean. I was kind of an ass to you, telling you that...things wouldn't work. But I want to make it up to you and I'd...I'd like to spend the next ten plus years with you in my life, in whatever way you'll have me.”

Jack erupts in laughter, unable to contain it. He puts his face into his hands, because this whole situation is so funny to him, somehow. But he's so fucking happy to be hearing these words that it's incredible.

“Ten years is a little presumptuous,” Jack wipes at his eyes. “I do admire your ambition, though. But let's not get too ahead of ourselves. How does next Tuesday sound?”

Mark's smile is practically blinding. “Sounds fantastic.” 

Jack puts his hand on the table, palm up, and Mark places his hand over his tentatively. It's warm against his skin, and his heart flutters. He knows his cheeks are red.

“Tuesday it is,” Jack mumbles. “Don't keep me waiting this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. Thank you so much!


End file.
